Part XV
It was Naum Alexandrov that spoke first.
“Suu, let me get dis’ straight. Thuh Archbishop is a Resolvust?”
Tobias Walker replied with a scornful tone, hitting the lumbering Templar with his gnarled staff. On any other day, the sight would of been a humerous one, yet this eve held no humor to it.
“No, you fool. That caniving bastard is making a deal with the cultists to -become- one. Trading whatever it is that made short work of that Cambion so he and his friends can join the other team!”
Adamus Christoverus snorted, shaking his head.
“But why? It doesn’t make any sense. Creating some monster for the Resolve to use? Why would they need something like that?”
The eight were silent for a moment. After a long few seconds of pondering, Xtopherus spoke up, his voice low and cold.
“It makes perfect sense. The Resolve needs a new footsoldier, and whatever it was that slain that Cambion, it’s a prime candidate for immediate circulation.”
It was the Bishop’s turn to interject.
“But why? The cambions make short work of us, that much is evident from the massacare at MacArthur’s Gate. Why the need for something stronger and even more deadly?”
Xtopherus nodded, then continued.
“The cambion is strong, yes, but flawed. As they are both of this world and of Hell, they are bound by the laws of the Doctrine. Their daemonic natures lead to certain complications, mainly, insanity. After but a few months after their creation, they are stricken with insanity, and succumb to madness.”
Adamus spoke up again, still grasping to conceive the situation.
“But surely the Resolve has enough forces left to create an army of cambion large enough to eradicate the Republic, especially with the shape the kingdom is in now. Why the need for something more powerful? And why not create it themselves? Are they not power incarnate?”
Xtopherus shook his head, continuing.
“Nay. The Resolve are bound by laws, the rules of the Doctrine. There are things they simply cannot do. Their cambions are the result of volunteers willing to sacrifice their souls for the cult and it’s ideas. And their volunteers are undoubtedly dwindling. They may of culled thousands when they first appeared in the Republic, but that was nearly twenty five years ago.”
It was Alexandrov’s turn to intjerct.
“But them can kill us good without any muur help. Why do they need muur warriors?”
Xtopherus shrugged.
“I know not. Perhaps in anticipation for something greater. Perhaps a threat we’ve yet to see, something that frightens even them.”
Shaking his head, Adamus Christoverus looked towards the square once more, then back to the assembled group.
“How do you know so much about the Resolve anyways?”
Before Xtopherus could answer, the Bishop spoke up, silencing the group.
“It matters not, my brothers. What matters is this; our Archbishop is not only a traitor, but a aspirant Resolvist. He’s used our own Republic’s resources to create creatures of horrifying power. Creatures he intends to trade to our enemy in exhchange for a place within their ranks. We must end this tonight, here, this very moment, or the fate of this Republic will be sealed forever.”
The group nodded, looking to each other with determined gazes. In the midst of the rallying, Tobias Walker furrowed his weathered brow, looking about the collection of men before him.
“Where are the two youngins’ at? Stephen and the Garden folk?”
From the barn window, Julain De’Vuil spoke up, not drawing his sight from the village square.
“I’m right here, but as for the Templar…”
His voice trailed off as the others gathered around him, looking towards the square. In the darkness of the night, the assembled men watched as the Decusian Templar Stephen Abimelech crawled through the weeds and tall grases surrounding the village square, sword in hand. His target was soon revealed; in a zealous cry, the young warrior leaped from his concealement, rushing past a handfull of Diaconate Templar. His blade met the back of Karl Anslem, the 204th Archbishop of the Venerated Republic, sliding through both flesh and bone easily. The Archbishop had been dead before his body, wrapped in the now crimson stained white robes of the Republic, hit the ground.
Within moments, the lumbering abomination termed a Vicissitudo by the late Archbishop, struck the young Templar down in a single swipe, caving his skull in with a clenched fist as large as his head. The sight had driven Bishop Johan Landcaster into a zealous rage, and from the barn he and his remaining six companions poured forth, wielding both sword and magic upon the traitors of the Republic.
The Resolvist, however, seemed quite un-surprised by the whole ordeal. Either through premonition or other means, the cowled cultist simply looked upon his newly acquired pet, the lumbering green skinned Vicissitudo, and nodded knowingly. The night’s events had played out as expected. Offering a gloved hand to the massive creature, the Resolvist flashed a steely grin. Grasping the Resolvist’s hand with its own gore-covered paw, the Vicissitudo grunted in agreement. Hand in hand, the two walked out of the village square casually, while the sounds of battle erupted behind them…
The eight sat silently in the barn as the scene continued to play out in the town square. They looked upon each other, each trying to assimilate what they had just seen. Even Xtopherus, the Garden Tender whom had been aware of the Archbishop’s treachery, seemed mortified as to the new revelations revealed.